


Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?

by titC



Series: Lucy [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: A good dog - Freeform, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Foggy/Marci, M/M, Some Whump, bit of blood, other characters but that would be spoilery ;-)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18040475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Everyone tries to resume the usual course of their lives after the Big Drama. The usual happens.





	Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Beguile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beguile) for betaing!  
> For my DaredevilBingo prompt _Landman and Zack_.  
> Check end notes for potential triggers.  
> There's a sex scene, but also other scenes.  
> Title: a [Latin quote](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quis_custodiet_ipsos_custodes%3F) meaning, _Who watches the guards themselves?_ However you understand "watches" it should work ;-)

On Monday morning, Frank drove Matt and Lucy to Nelson’s Meats. They’d spent Sunday at the shelter, going on a run together as they hadn’t for weeks and then taking Lucy on a long walk. Carlie gave him a thumbs-up when she saw them reunited before they left for Manhattan, and when Frank told him about it, Matt hid his smile behind the scarf he’d reappropriated.

“It smells like you,” he said once they were in the truck.

“Nelson’s mother recognized it. She wanted answers.”

“Aw, poor you. She can be relentless.”

“Yeah. Nelson saved me from her, then demanded answers too.”

“You suffered terribly.”

“You bet.” Frank wondered if Matt knew how worried his friends had been. “You going out tonight?”

“Probably, yeah.” Matt’s hand searched for his. “Got to try that new suit, right?”

“Right.” Frank gave the fingers in his a quick squeeze. “Take it easy, all right? You’re not…” He tapped on the wheel. “You’re not fully recovered yet.”

“I’ll be good. Promise.”

Yeah, as if. Frank parked near the shop and braced himself for several Nelsons and a probably smug Karen, but Matt was all loose and relaxed, so he could do it. Even earned a muffled giggle when he straightened Matt’s tie before leaving, so Frank knocked Karen’s nameplate down in retaliation.

“You be a good girl, yeah?” he told Lucy, and then he was out.

He had stuff to pick up for the shelter, after all.

 

Matt called him the next morning, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“Hey, Frank.”

“Red.”

“What are you doing?” Rustling fabric. He was still in bed. “I’m just waking up.”

“Back from a morning run.”

“Mm.” Frank could picture him, stretching under his fancy silk sheets and still a bit uncoordinated. Fumbling for the alarm clock, scratching his stitches then remembering he shouldn’t. “Wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For the suit.” Oh. “It’s really good. Melvin outdid himself.”

“Yeah?”

More humming. Matt sounded content. “Went to see him. He told me you’d made a little deal.”

“What did he say?” Frank hoped Potter hadn’t said anything about the horns.

“That you were in Foggy’s debt now.” Oh, that. Shit.

“Yeah.”

“Foggy knows?”

“Not yet.”

“All right.” More rustling, a long sigh. Matt was probably sitting now, maybe about to stand up. With the damn socks on, Frank just knew it. “I don’t know how you can go running so early.”

“Clears my head.” Frank took off his running shoes, ran a hand over his face. Had to shave this morning, yeah. “It’s not that early, Red.”

“Whatever you say.” A thump, a doggy noise. “Yeah, Lucy, it’s Frank. Hey, so, can I tell Fogs?”

“That you’re useless in the mornings?”

“I think he knows by now. Nah, that you owe him.”

“Yeah, sure. Tell him I can fix things, if he needs me to.”

“Will do, but he’s pretty good with his hands, you know? Can get in tight places and everything.”

Frank grunted. “Better than me?”

“Hm. Can you screw while on your back? I’m told that’s pretty skilled stuff.”

“Red.”

“I mean, nothing leaks for long when he’s around, you know? He’s efficient like that.”

“ _Red._ ”

“I remember, when we were roommates…”

“I swear I’m going to drive down to Hell’s Kitchen and show you who’s best at screwing.”

Matt laughed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“I’m going to nail you to the bed tonight, Red. Just you wait.”

“Promises, promises.”

Fuck, Frank had missed this. How could he have thought he could do without? “Tonight, Red.”

“Looking forward.”

“Yeah, looking forward.” He hung up and briefly wondered if Matt had ever, in fact, slept with Nelson. Nah, he hadn't. Right? Anyway, Nelson seemed really into his girlfriend; Frank was pretty sure he wouldn’t try anything now. And he’d been surprised to see Matt with another guy, Frank remembered… but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been some attraction, maybe some drunken college – ah, fuck. No. It was stupid.

 

Frank found Nelson, Murdock, and Page planning out law stuff with much waving and gesturing.

“Whoa,” he said as he narrowly escaped Karen’s elbow in the gut.

“Oh hey, Frank.” She patted his chest in apology. “Come to steal Matt?”

“He better, I was promised things,” the little shit said.

“I _really_ don’t want to know. Glad the mopefest is over, though.” Nelson wrapped an arm around Red and Frank narrowed his eyes. “We need you in top shape for tomorrow, right?”

“What’s tomorrow?” Frank asked. Lucy butted her head against his leg and he gave her a scratch.

“A preliminary hearing about the child pornography ring _some_ people burned down.” Nelson gave Matt’s shoulders a little shake. Red grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fogs.”

“Uh huh. Sure you don’t. We’ll get hammered tomorrow night if it goes well, I promise. The eel stuff, Matt! Like the good old days.”

Red laughed into Nelson’s shoulder and Frank tried not to peel him off of his buddy himself. He wasn’t jealous at all. He eyed Nelson’s fingers, still over Matt. They were neither too skinny nor too thick, the nails were short and clean and not bitten or damaged, the skin looked soft. He looked down at his own. A few knuckles were misaligned after one too many fight, and he had worker’s hands – scarred, thicker skin, calluses. He stuck them in his pockets and didn’t look at Karen. He could feel her curious gaze on him.

“Counting on it, Fogs.” Red patted Nelson’s soft belly and finally detached himself from his buddy. “Say, Frank, would you join us?” Frank shrugged. Sure.

“And Marci!” Nelson said. “If you get to take him along, I don’t see why I can’t bring my girlfriend.”

”And we could ask Brett. He worked on the case, too,” Karen said while making tidy piles of the files they’d spread out everywhere before Frank got there.

“Are you inviting all of Hell’s Kitchen?” Frank said. “Cozying up to cops, too?” Especially Mahoney. He’d just learned about Daredevil. Maybe they shouldn’t push him too far right now.

“Ugh!” Nelson threw up his hands. “This is called having friends, you know?”

Matt huffed a little laugh and took Frank’s elbow, his briefcase in the other hand and his folded cane dangling from his wrist. “Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow, Fogs, Karen.”

“No bruise or shiner tomorrow, you hear me?”

“I’ll be good!”

“And no hickeys above the collar!” Karen added.

Nelson groaned, but finally, they got out of the door. Frank slung the briefcase over his own shoulder so Matt could hold Lucy’s leash, and they may have hurried a little. Frank had promises to fulfill, after all.

 

They almost got caught in the rain walking back to Matt’s apartment, and they were panting a little when they got to the front door. Lucy must have understood she wasn’t going to get much attention for the time being, because as soon as Frank removed her leash and harness she made for her rug and ignored them. He stood up and faced Matt.

“You hungry?” That got him a smirk. “Red.”

“Maybe a quick bite,” he said. Matt made to go to the kitchen and Frank snapped and shoved him against the wall.

“You little shit,” he hissed in Red’s neck. That got him a pleased little hum and a head tilt that gave him better access. “Been thinking about this all day.”

“Yeah.” Oh, Matt sounded less smug now. Breathy. Good. Frank slipped a hand under Matt’s white shirt and ran his fingertips along the stitches he’d made. Matt twitched. He’d be careful, then.

“Anything you want?”

“Anything _else_ , you mean?” He hooked a leg over Frank’s hip and grabbed hard at Frank’s shoulders and all right, he got the hint loud and clear. Frank pinned him against the wall and he was pretty sure Red didn’t think of anybody else for a while.

 

Frank’s short hair rubbed against Matt’s shoulder when he turned his head to look into the main room from the bed, and Matt giggled.

“Ticklish?”

“No.” Ha. Liar. “What’re you looking at? Lucy’s not eating shoes, I hope?”

“She’s sleeping. No, we just made a mess.” One jacket on the floor, a shirt on the couch, Matt’s tie on the coffee table. Shoes here and there. Frank thought about picking it all up before Red forgot about it and tripped on something. Later. Now, he just wanted to enjoy Matt’s hard body under his, to brush fingers against the arm thrown over his stomach and feel his shudders when he went against the hair. They were warm just right, now that he’d fished the sheets they’d pushed down the bed earlier.

“Mm. I’m kinda hungry now,” Matt said. Frank decided that meant he’d done something right. “It’s your fault.”

Yup. “Guilty as charged.”

“Then you’ll have to make reparations.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll feed you.” Frank’s hair was so short these days, he could easily feel Matt’s lips on his skull. “How did you even survive before? Shitty beer and takeout?”

Matt pinched him. “Foggy used to take care of food, back when we were roommates.”

“I’m not hearing any counter here.”

“I can cook.”

Yeah, maybe; he just never did. And not that Frank had ever seen it. Well, Frank liked cooking, so that was okay. It made him feel useful, like he was doing something entirely good. Something that didn’t involve blood or pain, something that made another person happy and healthy. He’d been robbed of that, when his kids – yeah. It just mattered, all right? It mattered. Matt’s fingers slid between his. It anchored him to the now.

“I told Fogs.”

“Hm?”

“That you owed him. He laughed for five minutes straight.”

Damn, Frank’d been trying to forget that. “I think I liked him better when he was scared of me.”

“He’s very brave, you know. He’s scared, but he doesn’t let that stop him. That’s true bravery.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He was a mouthy lawyer, but there was steel under the suits. There had to be, to stand up to Matt. “He’s all right.”

“High praise.” Frank could hear the smile in his voice.

“Don’t let it get to his head.”

“Nah.”

Frank could fall asleep like that, knowing everyone that counted was safe and well. Matt’s breathing was slowing down too. Frank closed his eyes, then reopened them. Shit. “Red?”

“Hm?”

“You been with a lot of guys? Before.”

“Before? Before you?”

“Yeah.”

“A few. Why?”

“Nothing.”

“Frank. Why?”

“You and Nelson, you’re close, right? Known each other for ages. But he didn’t know.”

“I didn’t, uh. I wasn’t very open about it.”

“No shit. You lived with him for years.”

“Would have been awkward.” Frank waited. “Girlfriends, that was normal, you know? But I didn’t want him to think that, huh. I didn’t want to have to move out.”

“You thought he’d kick you out? _Nelson?_ ”

“I know, it’s stupid. But I hid it, yeah. What if he’s disgusted? What if he thinks I’m hitting on him? I didn’t want to risk it. I wasn't too comfortable with it myself, anyway. Tried to ignore it, mostly.”

 _Catholic school,_ Frank thought. Although Maggie, at least, didn't seem fazed at all. “You hid a lot from him.”

“I know. I’m not a very good friend.” Yeah, well. Ask Curt, he’d probably have things to say about the kind of friend Frank was. “You?”

“Guys? Yeah, before Maria. The kind of thing that had no expectations, you know? I got around. Not out in the open with men. DADT was still there when I joined.” Frank sighed. “Then I met her, and… yeah. There wasn’t anybody else, after that. I didn't see them.”

“That’s sweet.”

“When you got it, you don’t – you shouldn’t let go, you know? You’re an idiot if you do.” He twisted out of Matt’s arms to look down at him, his unfocused gaze and his messy hair and his still red lips, the cross around his neck and the light stubble on his cheeks. Frank closed his eyes and let his forehead touch Matt’s. “A real dumb idiot.”

“That's okay,” Matt whispered. “I like idiots.”

Dinner could wait.

 

Frank had never been to Josie’s. It was a hole in the wall, the kind he liked. He was surprised to see Nelson in there, but he hadn’t always been swanky suits and snazzy hair. He even nodded to a few people inside, and got a few digs about being too fancy now to fit in. He took it all in stride and quickly reestablished he’d grown up here, thank you very much, and knew all their mothers and sisters. Yeah, okay, he was good. Karen and Matt were right at home too, Karen drinking like a fish and Matt having apparently his own table – a couple of guys stood up and called him over when they came in, and that seemed to be a normal occurrence to have rough-looking, won’t-take-no-shit men guide him to their former corner.

“Used to meet some clients here back when I was on my own,” Matt said when they sat down. “Now they won’t let me sit anywhere else.”

“It _is_ the best table,” Nelson said. “Well, the least sticky one.”

Frank approved of the wall at his back and thought Matt had probably first be drawn to this particular table for the same reason. “So, Nelson. Your girl coming?”

“Marci? Yeah, she stayed a bit late at work but she’ll join us.”

“I guess she’s got to make up for all the money you’re not making at our firm,” Karen said.

“Excuse you, we’re not making much _yet_ , but we’re going to! I even brought a few of my former _paying_ HC&B clients with me!”

Matt smiled into his beer. They had their habits, Frank knew. Their regular, familiar little arguments with their predetermined roles and everything. They were like a family and he was only watching them from outside, not really a part of it. The teasing, the paid-in-pies jokes, the easy touches and the mouthing along. Matt’s thigh pressed against Frank’s though, so there was that.

“Do you think Brett will come?” Karen asked.

“Eh, he will.” Nelson checked his phone with a frown then put it back face down on the table. “He’ll grumble about it, but he will.”

“He not a fan of lawyers?” Frank asked.

“Not good for his cred, he says; but hey, we grew up together and everyone knows it.”

“He’s been Foggy’s archenemy since kindergarten, I think,” Matt said.

Frank leaned over the table. “Want me to kill him for you?”

“Oh my g- wait, was that a joke? Did you make a joke? Matt, was he being nice? Or funny? Saying he’d kill a dignified NYPD officer for me?”

“What do you think, Nelson?”

Karen giggled. “Poor Foggy, you got yourself a knight in bloody armor.”

“Hey, I’m not a damsel in distress. Say, Frank,” Nelson said. “Why don’t you call me Foggy like everyone else?”

“We’re not archenemies.”

“I mean it’s kinda weird, you know?”

“And ‘Foggy’ ain’t a weird name?”

“It’s a _tradition_.”

“Not all traditions are good. _Nelson_.”

“So if we become archenemies, you’ll call me Foggy?”

“Or roommates,” Karen said.

“Yeah, no, no way.” Nelson shuddered. “I survived Matt Murdock. I’m not risking him.”

“Survived? Aw, Fogs.” Matt pouted a little, and Karen’s smile widened.

“Not calling you ‘Fogs’ either,” Frank said.

“So Nelson I shall remain, then?”

“It’s your name.”

“Jeez, fine. At least it’s not Franklin.”

“No one’s ever called you Franklin that I remember,” Mahoney said from behind Nelson. “Apart from when you fuck up.”

“I never fuck up.”

“Sure.” Mahoney sat down and knocked his beer against the other bottles already on the table. “So, slumming it at Josie’s again? Low on funds?”

“Eh, don’t worry, Bess’ll still get her cigars.”

“She doesn’t need your cigars.”

“But she wants them, Brett. Who am I to deny her such a fine pleasure?”

“Fine? Foul, you mean. Those things stink.” Mahoney kept up with Nelson, but he kept glancing at Frank and Matt. Nelson seemed oblivious, and he probably wasn’t aware of what his buddy knew. Not yet, at least. Karen had picked up on the tension and her eyes had narrowed a little.

Nelson’s phone buzzed on the table, and he picked it up. “Must be Marci.”

Then he blanched, looked up at Matt, and put it down on the table again with a thump.

“She’s not coming.”

“What?”

“Hey Matt, mind if we take this to your apartment? Bit crowded in here tonight, and you’re the closest.”

“Oh, um. Sure.”

Everybody had picked up on the mood, but they didn’t rush either. Nelson kept darting glances left and right as if expecting to see someone jump out at him, and Frank nudged his elbow. “Don’t look around. Matt’s listening for anything weird anyway.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.” Nelson made an effort to stop acting like a paranoid chicken and kept a light conversation with Mahoney for the few blocks they had to walk.

Karen slipped into a bodega to buy some beers to make it look more normal, and Matt’s hand twitched on Frank’s arm as they waited for her. “I don’t think anyone’s following,” he said.

“Didn’t see anyone either, but…” Frank looked up at windows higher up. “People know Mahoney around here?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“We should ditch him.”

“No one’s ditching me, Castle,” Mahoney said.

“You’re a cop. This doesn’t look like a cop-friendly situation to me.”

“You just want to get rid of me so you can go have a shoot-out in the middle of the streets in peace.” He frowned at Matt too, but he still was keeping his mouth shut about it.

Heels on the pavement, Karen was back. Her arms were full. “So I got us some booze, mind carrying some?”

Mahoney took one bag and glared at Frank. “I sure can help,” he said.

Ah, shit. Whatever this was, they’d have to hope no one saw the cop with them, plainclothes or not.

They hurried to Matt’s and as soon as the door was closed, even before Lucy jumped up to her feet, Nelson was in Frank’s face.

“You owe me.”

“I do.” Frank got it. He got what Nelson didn’t say.

“Hey,” Mahoney said.”You can’t… you can’t do that, Foggy.”

Nelson got his phone out. “Look at that. They took a picture, and they said no cops or she gets it.”

“They always say that, you know this.”

“Yeah, and you never know if they’re serious or not at first. I’m not risking her.”

“Marci’s tough,” Matt said.

“Yeah, well. They sent a short video too while we got here, couple seconds. It shows her roughed up and gagged in a trunk and I… shit, Matt.”

“Can I?” Frank took the phone when Nelson nodded. You could see the car’s color, and the trunk looked like a Ford’s. Nelson’s girlfriend had tear tracks down her face and her makeup was ruined, but she looked furious as she glared up at the camera. Frank hoped she wouldn't antagonize her attackers too much, not while she was in a position where she couldn't fight back. Still, she was a lawyer; she probably knew when to strike and when to wait.

“See anything useful?” Foggy asked. Frank shrugged and gave the phone to Mahoney, who took it with a glare.

“Video was taken 30 minutes ago if the filename was not tampered with,” Mahoney said, “so pretty recent. Those the clothes she’d been wearing today?”

“Yes.”

“We’d need to ask our computer squad to see if they can locate where it was shot.”

“Wait,” Karen said. “Look at her hands.”

“What about her hands?” Matt was losing patience, Frank could see it. Court battles, no problem. People to punch, he reveled in it. Silent video on a phone? Shit, Red. He couldn't do a thing about it.

“She’s doing something with her hands. It’s deliberate.”

“Something?”

“Letters. Thumb and pointer, it’s an L. The other one though…” She started poking at her own phone. “Fuck it, I’m looking up sign language but it doesn’t look like anything.”

“Let me see,” Mahoney said. He frowned. “Could it be a Z?”

“Shit.” Nelson grabbed Matt’s arm. “Landman and Zack.” He sat heavily on the couch, and Lucy sat at his feet. He petted her absently while repeating, “Landman and Zack.” Matt seemed to understand what it was about.

“Who?” Frank had never heard of them.

“We’re going against what’s left of that firm in the child porn case. We worked for them as interns years ago, and when we first went after Fisk they almost went under.” Matt sat next to Nelson as he spoke. “Marci used to work for them but she leaked us documents that helped bring them down.”

“And the preliminary hearing was today,” Mahoney said. “They’re after both you and Marci.”

Karen cracked open a few beers and set them on the low table. “Let’s plan, then.”

“I’m not planning,” Frank said.

“What?”

“I’m going on recon.”

“Recon? What do you want to _recon_ , Castle?” Mahoney walked up to Frank and glared. “This is a kidnapping. This is not something that can be solved by vigilantes and wanted criminals!”

“I’m not either.” Not exactly.

“What are you planning?” Matt asked.

Mahoney turned to stare at him. “Don’t you encourage him.”

“Just what I said,” Frank told Matt, “Recon. Check her workplace, find out if anyone saw anything.”

“That’s called _police work_ , Castle, and you’re not police.”

“They said no cop. I don’t know what they’re ready to do, but Brett…” Nelson looked down at his screen, at the frozen image of his girlfriend. “What if they’re serious? What if they recognize you?”

“I’m not the only cop in all of New York.”

“You’re the one I trust.”

“That’s sweet, and it’s still a no.”

“What if you went together?” Everyone stared at Matt. “I can come too. Make sure you don’t kill each other.”

“You’re staying here, I don’t need both a blind lawyer and a trigger-happy vigilante trying to tail me.”

Matt frowned, but Frank knelt in front of him and squeezed his ankle to get his attention. “You stay here, because your buddy needs you. All right?” Red nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t protest. Frank understood. He knew the feeling of fists itching to hit something, anything. Anyone.

“You are staying here too, Castle. I’m going to call it in and then – ”

“No.” Nelson’s hand shot out and grabbed Mahoney’s wrist. “Not yet, at least. These people – you can’t know who’s in their pockets. You can’t know how crazy they are. I trust you, I trust Frank here, but anyone not here with us? No. Especially not with – with Marci.”

“I thought you said they’d lost everything?”

“That we know of. Clearly there’s more that we don’t know. I’m not risking it, Brett.”

“Shit.” Mahoney patted his holster, and narrowed his eyes at Frank. “You try anything…”

“Got it.”

Frank wished he had a gun or two with him, but he didn’t need them. He could take a gun from those bastards, if he had to. He would.

“Be safe,” Matt said.

“We will.” Frank scratched Lucy’s chin and left before the urge to touch Matt overcame the presence of the others. Wasn’t here to make a spectacle of their… thing. Yeah. _Theirs_.

Mahoney ignored him as they left, and once in the street he walked fast. Frank kept up with him.

“So am I supposed to follow you, tail you or go with you?”

“I don’t want you around, Castle.”

“Yeah, I got that fine.”

“I’m parked a couple blocks from here.”

“A cop car?”

Mahoney stopped. “Shit. If you know where to look…”

“We can use mine. But I come with it.”

“Actually yours?”

Frank shrugged. “The shelter’s. They let me use theirs.”

“How do you do it? Get people to trust you?” Mahoney turned to, this time, follow Frank. “Or maybe they don’t know who you are.”

“They do, now.”

“And they’re fine with it?”

“Looks like.”

“I don’t get it. How do you do it? Murdock’s always been a bit strange, but Foggy? Foggy Nelson?” Mahoney shook his head. “He’s not an idiot; he knows you’re trouble.”

“I don’t know, ask him.” They reached the van and they got in. “Maybe it’s the dog.”

“Yeah, sure. The dog. A dog that looks like it’s been through hell and back, incidentally.”

“She’s fine now.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the best dog dads ever, I’m sure. Kudos on getting Matt to accept a guide dog, though. That’s quite the feat.”

Frank started the engine. “Lucy adopted him.”

“He must like strays.” Mahoney checked his phone and made Frank take a different road to avoid driving past a precinct. “Say, he doesn't actually need a dog, right?”

“He can do without, most of the time.”

“ _Most_ of the time? Guy’s parkouring his way through the city and fighting armed people on the regular.”

“Sometimes he’s focusing on other stuff, or he’s hurt, or he’s tired.”

Mahoney didn’t say anything for a while. “Does he get hurt often?”

“All the fucking time,” Frank said.

“Whoa, all right. Yeah, he’s not wearing armor these days, right?”

“He better. I had a new suit made for him.”

Mahoney whistled. “You're really the sweet murder boyfriend kind, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” Frank parked the van a block away from the building where HB&C had their offices. “There can’t be many people left in there, not at this hour.”

“It’s only 9, must be some lawyers left. Mostly security guards though.”

“You can’t go in waving your badge.”

“You can’t go in shooting everyone's head.”

“Don’t have a gun. Can’t shoot.”

“Sometimes, Castle, I really wish I’d shot you under that bridge.”

“Sometimes, I really wish I’d left you to die in that police van.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Yeah?”

“You saved my life at no benefit to you.”

“You didn’t arrest me that time. We’re even.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Frank opened his door. “Can we go now?”

“Wait.” Mahoney read through his phone. “Foggy just sent me the names of people working there, and those who might still be here right now. We go in and ask to see a lawyer, and as soon as you can, you go check what’s behind the pretty glass walls, all right?”

“Yeah.” Stairwells, underground parking lot, basement, the works. Sure. “You got my number?”

“Yes. Fogs said he was sending you mine.”

If they didn't have proper earpieces, phones would have to do. “We’re a go, then,” Frank said.

Mahoney glared at him after he stashed his NYPD badge in the glovebox, but kept his mouth shut until they reached the building. Some sweet talking to the security guard, some judicious name dropping thanks to Nelson’s advice, and they were in. As soon as they were in the clear, Frank took to the stairs while Mahoney rode the elevator up to see a lawyer. There was nothing strange so far, and when he reached the parking lot everything felt, well – too quiet. Too normal.

He pushed the fire door open and, yeah. Quiet. He walked around, patting his pockets like a guy looking for his keys. Security cameras were blinking from the ceiling, and he knew his little act wouldn't give him a lot of time before he had to leave.

Security lights, expensive cars, and – shit. A blue stiletto under a shiny Dodger. Frank snapped a picture and sent it to Nelson. _That your girl’s?_ He looked around. Some tire marks, but hard to say when they had been made. _Yes_ , Nelson answered. All right then. They were getting somewhere.

He walked to the elevator, faked a fuss about not finding the key fob, and made his way to the stairwell. Next step: camera feeds. The control room.

Frank decided to start with the underground floor right above the parking lot. Pipes, wires, dead neon lights – not here. He picked up a screwdriver forgotten on the floor and stuck in in the back of his pants. Back to the stairwell, the floor above: much more promising. There still were cameras though, and he’d be made quickly. He had to be fast, in and out, and hope Mahoney would also make it out.

There was only one guy in front of the screens, but he was waiting for Frank. “Don’t feed me the _I’m lost_ bullshit,” he said.

Well, all right then. Frank took the screwdriver and threw it as he raised his hands in the air. It knocked the gun out of the guard’s grip and Frank leapt forward. The fight was quick, and the guy stopped trying anything once Frank had knocked him down with a chair.

“Look, you asked for it,” Frank said as he picked up the guard’s gun. He poked at the computers, and found how to go back earlier in the day. _Where’s her office?_ He’d start by looking at the cameras from the parking lot while he waited for an answer. He was fighting with the software when he realized he could hear boots on the floor and that they were close. Shit, he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Rookie mistake. He threw himself against the wall by the door and checked his weapon. A few rounds but not enough.

Bullets hit the other side of the wall and he threw himself to the floor – wall was too thin to stop much. He shot the men as they poured in, knocked a guy’s temple to daze him long enough to wrestle his weapon from his hands, shot down a few others, but he couldn't last long. Sharp pain in the meat of the arm, a bullet graze that made his side burn like a bitch, an arm choking him – he passed out.

 

When Frank woke up, his hands were tied to a radiator behind him. He rattled the cuffs and twisted and grunted, but it only made his wrists hurt. Mahoney was watching him from the other side of the room, apparently tied to pipes that ran up from floor to ceiling.

“Shit,” Frank said.

“That the kind of situation analysis they teach you at Marine camp?”

“They got the drop on you too.”

“They found you first and decided to go after the guy you came with, aka me.”

“Yeah, well.” Frank tried to find a better position, but his arm and his side were on fire. There was no better position.

“You’re hurt,” Mahoney said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure.”

Someone banged on the door before walking away, and they stayed quiet for a while. They were in a windowless room, the only light coming from an old, yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Frank felt around his wrists, but the cuffs were sturdy. There were some voices outside, footsteps, a chair scraping on concrete.

“There’s a guard outside.” Not right in front of the door, or they’d have heard more.

“Yeah, well. That’s the smart thing to do.” Mahoney smiled a little. “Don’t think they know who you are, though. There would have been more bragging.”

“They’re not from around here, I guess.”

“Guess not.”

“Heard anything about Marci?”

“They mentioned a woman in another room. Hope it’s her. Shit, this is your fault. We should have done the _right_ thing!”

Frank let his head fall back against the radiator behind him. They’d fucked up, yes. And right now they couldn’t do much about it and it made him furious. He wanted to bash someone head’s in, he really did, but the only available head was his and hitting it against the cast iron at his back was pointless. Dammit. “They must want her alive, otherwise…”

“Yeah. But those guys, they’re hired goons. From what I heard earlier, it’s just a job, and they’re pretty new at it. Not stupid, but new.”

“Might slip?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Fuck. “Only thing we can do is wait now.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Who does? Shit, my mom’s going to read me the riot act when she hears about this.”

“You’re still her little boy, eh?”

“Shut up, Castle.” Frank smiled. Frank 1, Mahoney 0. “I’d like to know what the boyfriend’s going to say, but he’s about as insane as you. Maybe Karen?” Damn, yeah. She was good at that, telling them all off when they’d fucked up. Okay, it was a tie.

“Hey,” Frank said. “Nelson’s girlfriend.” Mahoney hummed. “Known her long?”

“Damn, years. Since Foggy was in law school. They’ve been on and off since then. Friends with or without benefits, depending on the month or something.”

“Seem pretty much on and on these days.”

“Oh, yeah. Foggy’s going to to pop the question any day now. Or maybe she will if she gets fed up with waiting.” Mahoney rolled his shoulders. Must be pretty stiff after at least an hour with his hands tied back. Frank's definitely were. “You know, for years, there were rumors about Matt and Foggy.”

“Oh yeah?” So Frank hadn’t been the only one wondering.

“You bet. They were always together, for years. They had girlfriends but never for long, they roomed together for years, they got their internship at the same place, they started a firm together… Marci was the only one who didn't mind. She never felt threatened, I guess.”

“Threatened?”

“People have always known, if you get Fogs, you get Murdock, not negotiable. Of course people thought they were fucking, you know?”

 _Don’t ask. Don’t ask._ Ah, shit. “Were they?”

“Seriously?” Mahoney muffled his laughter in his raised knees. “Oh man. No, you bet I’d have known. Fogs wouldn’t have shut up about it, I’m sure. He never even knew about those rumors, and Murdock – I don’t know. But Matt’s only had one big love that I know of, and it ended badly.”

“Elektra?”

“I don’t know, some Greek woman. Super hot and super scary, Foggy said. Broke his heart. Heard she came back a couple years ago, and died.”

“Yeah.” And came back to life, and maybe died again, or not. Shit, what if she came back _again_?

“I don’t think you should worry, Matt’s too Catholic to cheat.”

“Not too Catholic not to hook up with a guy.”

“Yeah, you got a point.” Mahoney straightened his legs out again. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the jealous kind.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh huh.”

Whatever. Frank ignored the chuckling from the other end of the room, and closed his eyes again. The dried blood on his face was itchy, and his wounds were hurting, and his pride was smarting. Shit, he hated being the one to rescue.

 

Someone was walking past the door to their room twice every 15 minutes, then the creak of a chair, then nothing for 15 more minutes. Mahoney had wriggled enough that, if he twisted his neck just so, he could see his watch. They kept quiet when they knew the guard was coming, and Frank only wished the goon would come in close enough he could kick him good. After two hours stuck like that, his blood was boiling. He needed out, he needed to beat something – someone.

And that’s when, finally, something happened. The lights flickered, a first. Then noise above them, shouts, then their door was thrown open and a couple guys came in with Marci. They were holding a gun to her jaw but her eyes glared daggers at the assholes.

Once they’d thrown her to the floor, the guys stayed in, gun in hand, and took position to either side of the half-open door.

Oh, shit was going down all right.

Frank and Mahoney exchanged a glance, and Mahoney said, “You alright there, lady?”

“Shut up,” one of the assholes said.

Marci nodded and shifted to lean against the wall. Her hands were bound in her back too, but at least she wasn’t tied to anything. Her feet were bare and dirty, but apart from a bruise on her cheekbone she looked mostly unhurt.

Up in the building, the screams were coming closer. One of the guys touched his ear then said, “They still don’t know who it is.”

“Shit, how can they not? What are they wearing?”

“They can’t see. Whoever it was shut down the lights.”

“We still got lights down here.”

“Boss said basement’s running on a generator, but it can’t power the whole building.”

“Huh. A generator? Why?”

“I don’t know, man. Maybe he’s afraid of a storm?”

“I’m just saying. That’s weird.”

Mahoney raised his eyebrows at Frank. Yeah, yeah, he got it. Who else would fight in the dark?

“What’s happening?” Frank said. Nice and easy, get them to spill.

“Shut up.” The asshole with a comm raised his gun and peered into the corridor for a moment. “You’re insurance for now, but that may change.”

The shouts were closer, and a few more guys ran in the room and fanned around the door, guns trained on it. They were ready to shoot whoever would come in. It was getting crowded, and Frank couldn’t see Mahoney or Marci anymore. Fuck.

Slow, assured footsteps in the corridor: one, no, two sets. Coming from each end. They stopped near the door.

“So. Daredevil, huh.”

“Mr Landman. Didn’t know you could become more of a fraud than you already were.” Shit, he was doing the low, gravely voice that Frank absolutely didn’t find hot.

“I got hostages. My men are ready to shoot them down the moment you try anything.” Three guys moved their guns and Frank stared down a barrel. He assumed Mahoney and Marci were, too. Fuck.

“Dead hostages are useless. You won’t kill them.”

“Want to try me?”

“Off,” Matt said, and the remaining lights in the room and the corridor went off. Frank threw himself down as flat as he could when they started shooting, and he heard a bullet hit the wall behind him. He couldn't make out who was shouting what what with all the yelling and shooting but a few seconds later all he could hear was heavy punching. The same fists, over the same face. Heavy grunts, and bones breaking.

“Stop it, Red,” Frank said. The punching stopped, probably more out of surprise than anything else. “Don’t go there.”

“They shot you.”

“We’re okay,” Mahoney said. “Marci, too. We got down and they didn’t hit us.”

“We’re good, I swear.” Her voice was a bit shaky, but nothing more.

“He,” another heavy punch, “made them,” a body scraping on the floor and a whimper, “shoot you!” The body was dropped again.

“But we’re good, now. Leave him be, all right? Leave him be, for now.” Footsteps, someone kneeling close to him, and Matt’s fingers on his face, his arm, his side. He’d removed his glove, and he’d found all the spots where Frank had bled.

“Frank?”

“I’m fine, Red. Nothing bad. Can we get some light?” Frank wanted these cuffs off _now_ . He wanted to put his hands on Red and check _he_ was fine and then strangle him for coming in here on his own and getting shot at.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. _Fiat lux_ , I guess.”

The lights turned back on, and shit. Zhang was standing in the doorway.

“Wow,” she said. “Impressive.”

“The hell?” Frank looked her over. She was wearing light armor and not carrying any weapon that he could see. “No gun? Are you insane?”

“Eh, I picked some up on my way when I needed them. These guys had plenty.” Fuck, she was just as much of an idiot as Red.

Zhang crouched and started putting zip-ties on the other downed assholes, and she was doing their pockets at the same time. “Here,” she said, and she jingled the keys she’d found.

“Who are you?” Mahoney rubbed his wrists and looked her up and down.

Zhang helped Marci stand up. “A friend,” she said.

“Your boss doesn’t know you’re here?” Frank wouldn’t believe it if she said no.

“Not officially, no.” Fair enough.

As soon as he was free, Frank stood and pulled Matt up with him. “Let me look at you.”

“I’m fine,” Matt said.

A low whistle came from the doorway. “He’s really as bad as you, right?”

“David? What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, Frank.” David picked his way in between the groaning or unconscious bodies on the floor. “Who do you think found you and shut the lights off here?”

“I called him, when it was clear something had happened. He gave me a mic, too.” Matt’s hands went back to his side, his arm. “You got shot. I’m – ”

“You stay put.” Frank caught Matt’s wrist and held on tight. “They’re not going anywhere, Red. You got them.” Matt shook his head, but didn’t try to get away. “David?”

“Yeah, well, I found your phone, but you weren’t with it, you know?”

“Ooh, wait. Did Foggy-bear remember this?” Marci slid her sleeve up. There was a bracelet on her wrist, pushed far enough up her forearm it would have been hidden even when they’d tied her hands. “Gave it to me for Christmas.”

“A… watch?” Mahoney said.

“One of those new fancy ones, yes,” she said. “Very useful when you’re kidnapped, I must say.” She kicked Landman’s bruised head. “Hear me, jackass? I recorded everything they said, and I even took pictures. Hah!”

“He remembered it, yes.” Matt shook his wrist free from Frank and went for his burner. “Call him as soon as you got some signal,” he said as he threw it to Marci.

She caught it. “Damn yes, I will. Thanks for finding us,” she added for David.

“Hey, de nada. You go, girl! You stick it to the man!” Frank stared at David, who – oh, hell – was wearing one of Zhang’s brother’s shirts. It was one of the extra cutesy ones, his skull with a bandaid where he’d been shot in the head and heart-shaped orbits. “Like it, Frank? Leo found it on the Internet. Calls it a Hello Skull-y shirt.” Zhang giggled from where she was conferring with Mahoney.

“I hate it.”

“Sure you do. So yes, I tracked the watch’s GPS signal right to this building. Lost it when they took her underground, but that gave us enough, so I called Madani and she totally didn’t send her.”

Zhang waved. “Boss doesn’t say hi, Frank!”

“Whatever.”

“You really know people, Castle. And I have to say, I like the shirt,” Mahoney said.

“My brother makes them!” Zhang got a card out from a pocket and handed it out. “If you’re interested,” she added.

“Oh, I am. Definitely getting some for the precinct.” Frank frowned at them. “You got yourself some interesting friends, Castle.”

“Not my friends.”

“Aw, you’re in a grumpy mood,” David said. “So, you and the boyfriend coming this Saturday? Heard you’ve been busy these last few weeks, but you have to make some time for us, right?” Matt’s head tilted towards Frank.

“We’ll talk about it,” Frank said.

“Leo’s been moping, you know. She wants her books back.” David came a little closer and lowered his voice. “We missed you, all right?”

“Fine,” Frank gritted out.

“And bring the dog, okay?”

“I said fine.”

“He’s like a grumpy bear that got woken up before spring,” Zhang said. “So, shall we get out of here? I got to call a couple people, too.”

Frank glared at her and she cheerfully ignored him. She was making him pay for something, he knew it. He knew what, too. His weeks-long Punisher spree hadn’t gone unnoticed. Once they were outside, Zhang whipped out her phone and she, David, and Mahoney started talking at it. Probably arranging some sort of story, they’d tell him what in time. Marci sat on the curb and called Nelson, and she only started crying then. Frank was just a little bit impressed at her nerves, really: cluing them in when her kidnappers called them, keeping her cool and recording them… he wondered if she hadn’t lost her shoe on purpose, back in the underground parking lot.

Frank led Matt in an alley to the side of the building, and looked around. No cameras that he could see, and it was pretty dark anyway. He placed his palm on the suit, right above the stitches he’d made there just a few days ago. “You alright?”

“No one shot me.”

“Red.” Frank hadn’t missed the flinch when he’d pushed in a little.

“Popped a few.”

“And?”

“Maybe a cracked rib?”

“Okay. And?”

“Frank, please.”

Well. He’d check later anyway. “Nelson and Karen still at your place?”

“Yeah, I, uh. I called Danny, just in case. So they wouldn't be on their own.”

“That’s good.” Frank ran his thumb on Matt’s lips, then moved his hand up to remove his helmet. “Thank you.”

Matt smiled. “Hey, you needed a rescue.”

“Shut up, not for that.” Oh, Frank would make him swallow that smirk. “For being smart and asking for help.” And not going in half-cocked and getting himself hurt badly or – or worse.

“Well you should thank Foggy, then. He’s the one that made me call David, and it all snowballed from there.”

Whatever. Frank didn’t really care about the how as long as it got results – the people that counted safe and (mostly) whole, and Matt standing right here in front of him, with that little smirk on his face and his sweaty hair all standing on end and his eyes more or less aimed at the brick wall behind Frank’s head and, shit. Frank’s free hand pulled Matt in and fuck, yeah. He’d wanted to kiss those lips since the lights had turned off back in there, since he’d heard him fighting and since he’d seen him in that suit and, dammit. Red’s hands were tight on his hips, and they were _this close_ to grinding against each other in a dirty alley. This close. They should stop, but fuck if it wasn’t hard. _Very hard_ , shit, and Matt was doing those sounds in his throat and they had. To. Stop.

Frank rested his forehead on Matt’s. “Maybe not right here, yeah?”

“Imagine the headlines,” he said. “Foggy would never let us live it down.”

“He’d claim to be scarred for life.” Frank smiled. Maybe something to consider, then.

“I don't know, that’s pretty hot.”

Matt jumped away from Frank. “Marci?” He tried to take his helmet back but fumbled it. It fell with a thunk.

“I’ve known for a while, it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

“Foggy kept your secret but honestly it was obvious.”

“Oh,” Matt repeated. He looked a bit lost. He picked the helmet up and held it awkwardly. “You, uh. You all right?”

“Could be better. I really need a tetanus shot after walking barefoot in these streets, but mostly I just want to go home. The police is almost here. You should maybe leave before they arrive.” She looked behind her for a moment. “Look, I just wanted to say. We’ll get them. Brett said if you’d gone to the police they’d probably have waited until I was officially declared missing, but you came for me straight away.”

“Brett wanted us to go to the police.”

“Yeah, well. I can’t encourage you people, can I?” Mahoney appeared right behind her. “Yeah, even you, Matt. Don’t make that face, makes you look like a dying fish. I know, yes. But fine, this time you did good. Not you, Castle. _You_ were useless.”

“Fuck you too.” Okay, so maybe Frank could like him, but he couldn't very well say so, right? Wouldn’t live it down.

“Yeah, whatever. Your nerd friend said he’d drive you wherever you need, so. Now please get out of my life, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Frank said. Matt put his helmet back on and they got out of their dark little corner, and if he knocked Mahoney’s shoulder on his way Frank pretended it was purely an accident. He heard Matt talk some more to Marci and sure enough David’s car was idling right here.

“You coming in?”

“Yeah. Red?”

Matt joined him, and Frank held the door open for him. The passenger seat at the front was piled high with computer stuff, so they sat side by side at the back. And if their hands were touching, David wouldn't care.

 

David dropped them a block from Matt’s apartment, and made them swear again they’d come by next Saturday, promising a plague of locusts on them if they only thought of getting out of it. They got up a fire escape and made their way to Matt’s building via the roof access. Lucy bounded up the stairs to meet them, and Matt knelt to kiss her skull like the dork he was around her.

“Hey, you made it!”

Shit, Frank had forgotten how enthusiastic that Danny guy could sound about anything. “Yeah. Did you open a restaurant in here?” Lucy butted her head in his hand and he scratched her ear. “Hey, girl. You been good?” She wagged her tail and followed them down to the main room.

Once there, Matt took off his helmet and tilted his head. “It’s going to smell like Chinese food for days in here.”

“At least your fridge is stocked,” Karen said.

“That it is.” Nelson stood up from the couch. “Look, I…” He shook his head and threw his arms around both Matt and Frank. “Thank you,” he choked out.

“She’s fine, Fogs. Shaken, but fine. She outsmarted them,” Matt said.

“Yeah, she told me. That’s my girl, you know?”

“While _your_ man got himself captured too.” Karen looked way too happy she could tease him about that.

“I wasn’t even allowed a gun,” Frank said. He tried to disengage from Nelson’s grip, but he was stronger than he looked.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. you’re not a hug person, right?” Frank grunted, but at least he was free now. “Marci said she was going to the precinct with Brett first, so I’m going there now. Guess the office will be closed tomorrow, right?”

“We didn’t have anything vital scheduled anyway,” Karen said. She picked up her purse. “I'll just catch an Uber home and sleep until lunchtime, right?”

“Hey, no, I’ll just give you all a ride, okay?”

“You have your license now?” Matt seemed to find this particularly implausible. Well, maybe Danny wasn’t ruthless enough to drive in New York, but at least he wasn’t blind, you know?

“Nah, but I have a chauffeur.”

Danny got his phone out, and soon enough, the car arrived, and it was just Frank and Matt in the apartment, with a happy Lucy watching them from her rug. Finally. And, of course, Chinese food takeout boxes.

“You hungry?”

“No.” Matt took the chest out of the cupboard and started to remove his suit. “I want to check your wounds.” Gloves, boots, and then he seemed to be stuck.

“Let me.” Frank ran his hand along the side and found the catch. “You’re hurt, too.”

“I’m…”

“Matt.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They helped each other remove suit and clothes, and Frank led them to the bathroom where the light was stronger. “Yeah, you popped a few stitches.” He pressed a little on Matt’s torso and watched him try not to wince. “Ribs?”

“Not broken.”

But bruised or maybe cracked. He had a split lip, too, and he was suspiciously careful with one wrist. Frank hadn’t noticed those back in the alley. “You’ll live.”

Matt smiled, then frowned. “They shot you.”

“Nothing serious. Through and through. Just a clean and stitch job.”

“Frank, what if…”

“Look, we’ll have a shower, we’ll patch each other up, and we’ll be fine, okay? Just keep things quiet for a few days. You got them, you and Marci. You got those bastards.”

“And Zhang, and David, and…”

“Yeah, yeah. Team work.”

“Not our forte, usually.”

“I was a Marine, Red. Do you think I worked alone?”

“Lt. Castle, no. But the Punisher…” Matt put his hand over Frank’s heart. “I listened for you.”

“Yeah. And I’m fine, all right? Everyone that matters is.”

He turned the water on, and the heat helped loosen their muscles. They stayed a little longer than necessary under the spray, chest to chest and cheek to cheek.

“I wanted to kill him,” Matt said. “I heard him order the hostages shot. I wanted to kill him, Frank.”

“You didn’t.”

“You stopped me. I don’t know if I’d have stopped, otherwise.”

“Yes, you would.”

“Frank…”

“You can't go there, Red. I won't let you. You’re not a killer, you hear me?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. _That_ was an accident. You never went out and killed. You thought about it, you think maybe you _could_ have, you think you want to sometimes – but trust me. It’s not in you.” Frank tilted Matt’s head up and kissed him gently, careful of his split lip. “You don't know all I did, Red. You can't even _imagine_ the shit I did. And I’d do it all again, you know?” But Matt – no. He never would. “You’re good, yeah. Real altar boy. I’m not.”

“You used to blame me for this.”

“You do what you think is right. That’s what counts.”

Matt turned the water off and pushed him against the tile. “No, it’s not. There’s the law, and there’s people’s lives at stake, and then what does God want? I hear things, all the time – I hear things that I can’t believe He lets happen. I never know what to do, Frank. I never know what He wants me to do!” He shook his head and then rested it on Frank’s shoulder. He was exhausted. So was Frank. All the adrenaline of earlier had vanished and left them shaky.

“I think that’s the point, Red. That we don’t know.”

They dried off and took turns with the stitches, but they were experienced enough that it didn’t take them long. Once settled under the covers, Lucy joined them on the bed and made herself comfortable, somehow, over their legs.

“Frank,” Matt whispered in the dark.

“Yeah.”

“I think I could, for you.”

“Don’t.” _Don’t think about it, don’t do it, just don’t,_ Frank thought. “Promise me, Red. Not for me. Not because of me.”

“A life is a life. _Your_ life is a life.”

“And you’d kill for that? End one life for that? No.”

“I’d lose it, Frank. I think I’d lose it, and I’d do it.”

“You'd lose yourself if you did it. Promise me, Matt.”

“Okay,” he said. Frank knew he wouldn't get anything better, not that night. He tightened his arm just a little more around Matt’s waist and wished he still had faith, that he could pray for him. But he’d lost it along too much of himself and that was beyond him, now. He wouldn't let Matt get there. Never.

 

* * *

 

Saturday came almost too quickly.

Matt, the idiot, had still wanted to go out on Thursday night, but Frank had put his foot down for Friday: they were going to stay at the shelter, and someone was going to take the entire weekend off or else. He wasn’t quite sure what the _or else_ part would entail if he had to resort to it but Frank was prepared to deploy all kinds of strategies, from guilt-tripping him about leaving Lucy all on her own several nights in a row to, if need be, marathon sex.

Surprisingly enough, Matt hadn’t protested too much. Frank suspected he was still shaken by the past few weeks, and also – even if he’d never admit it – by his own violence. He was afraid that one day he wouldn't stop. Frank got it, he really did. He’d gone past that point long ago, and he could live with it. But Matt? He was always on the edge, and the fall would kill him. And Frank really, really didn’t want to think about it.

“You ready?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should wear a tie after all?”

“For God’s sake, Red. You look fine.” Nice jeans, and a tight shirt that didn’t hide much of what was under it. Sure, Matt was wearing a jacket, but Frank was hoping that after a couple glasses of the wine they were bringing he’d lose it. So what if he wanted to show him off a little? “Really fine.”

“You _feel_ fine,” Matt said. He slid his fingers up Frank’s chest and set a hand on his shoulder. “Bit tense.”

Well, they were going to grill him, especially Sarah and Leo. Frank wasn’t looking forward to that. “Can we go now?”

“In a minute.” Matt rose on tiptoes and kissed him and, all right, maybe that helped Frank relax a little.

Still. “Put on your shoes, Red, or we’ll be late.” Even Lucy was ready to go, waiting patiently by the door.

Frank felt Matt’s smile against his own lips before he saw it, and it was a nice sensation to keep in mind as he drove the three of them to the Liebermans’.

 

And yeah, grilling they did. Leo didn’t loan him a book when he gave her back those he’d borrowed weeks ago, but apart from the occasional pointed look she didn’t say much, which in itself was enough to make Frank know she wasn’t happy with him. But then, as soon as lunch was over and Matt was outside with Lucy and the kids, it was David and Sarah’s turn. He tried to escape by joining the game outside but Sarah shoved him in the armchair, David brought coffee from the kitchen, and they both sat on the couch and stared at him.

“You got some explaining to do,” David said.

Frank looked outside at the kids throwing a stick and Lucy dutifully taking it back to Matt, each and every time. He’d finally ditched the jacket, and Frank could see Leo was definitely noticing how Matt filled his shirt. He tried not to think of Lisa, of the teenage years she didn’t experience, of his own feelings when she’d have asked, _Can I spend the night at Sam’s? Can I_ – no. Frank took the coffee in front of him and burned his tongue. Better than saying anything.

“We were worried sick for you,” Sarah said.

“And Leo was pissed at you something fierce.” David sighed. “Well, we all were. You called me about the bombing, about Matt having disappeared, and then – nada. Had to snoop around, and then seeing reports of Punisher activity, nothing about Daredevil, and none of you answering our calls... It sucked, Frank.”

“Your Homeland Security friend came by to tell David to stop trying to hack into her files. That was fun,” Sarah said.

Frank scowled. “Madani’s not my friend.”

David rolled his eyes. “Sure. Definitely not. She was the one to tell us Matt was shot and almost died, not you. She was the one to tell us about how these people who kidnapped Zach were involved and how you’d all dismantled it. Well, I’d gotten most of the info already, but it was nice to have it confirmed.”

“She did the dismantling. I only shot some of them up.”

“Uh huh.”

“You could have called, Frank.” Shit, Sarah was doing the Disappointed Face. “That’s how this works.”

“This?”

“Yeah, _this_.” David waved his hand in the air between them. “You know, the _we lived together for weeks and saved each other’s ass_ thing.” The friend thing, he meant.

Frank shrugged. “You got your family to think of.”

“Bullshit.” Sarah glanced outside. “You’re like Zach, you know?” No, he wasn’t. “Not talking about things, not asking for help.”

“Didn’t need help.”

“Sure. I remember how you don’t turn into a total asshole rather than _ask for help_ , too.” David’s lips quirked up. “Weeks holed up with you in that place, Frank.”

“I’m not taking advice from a guy wearing a fucking robe all day long.”

“It’s called comfort. Nice things that make you feel good. You should try it sometimes.”

“Fuck you.”

David smiled. “Yeah, yeah.” Whatever.

“When we learned Matt had been injured, Zach and Leo asked if we could visit, but that’s when David found out about the Bronx-Lebanon attack. We were so worried, and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“I was busy.”

“Sure,” David said. “Busy evading Curt when he tried to see you, busy shooting up people you thought deserved bullets.”

“Less scum on the streets.” Wait. “Curt?”

“Called him, in the end. Told us you were in one of those moods, had even left Matt. What the hell, Frank.”

“None of Curt’s business.”

“Of course it was!” Sarah’s mug hit the table hard enough Frank wondered how it didn’t break. “You can’t stop people from caring. Not even yourself.”

“You lecturing me?”

“Damn right we are. You’re not alone, whether you like it or not. Got it?”

“Got it.” Frank had fucked up, he knew. And they – the Liebermans, Curt, _Matt_ – deserved better than him, but they just… stayed. What could he do? Curt had said that once, that people cared for him and that he didn’t have a say in it. What did that make him, that he hated how it made things harder? It hadn’t been the plan, it had never been the plan. There hadn’t been one, after Maria and the kids died. He hadn’t managed to think of the words _life_ , _future_. _After_. Lucy barked and Matt laughed outside. Maybe Frank could think those words, now. Or maybe he could try to, at least.

Sarah poured more coffee into the mugs and waited for Frank to take a sip. “So, real talk. Was the make up sex good?”

 

“What did they want to corner you about?” Matt asked on the way back to the shelter.

Frank couldn’t believe it. “What, you didn’t listen in?”

“No.”

“Sarah asked about the make up sex.”

“What did you say?”

“That you fell asleep almost in the middle.”

“ _Frank!_ ” What? It wasn’t even wrong. “I was tired and hurt.”

“Aw.” Frank took a hand off the wheel to pat Matt’s thigh consolingly. “Poor Red, no stamina.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.” Frank smirked. _Some_ one would have _some_ thing to prove tonight. He counted on it.

 

The following week was quiet. Frank had forgotten that it could be nice, too. He stopped shaving everyday, cleaned the kennels, fixed a gate, replaced a fuse box at St Agnes, stole Matt from work for lunch on Wednesday.

Marci was there when he arrived, and she looked well. One of her cheeks was still puffy and she was wearing fancy sneakers instead of heels, but he figured her bosses wouldn't mind, especially since her little stunt with her watch was apparently a big hit with the people investigating the case. She’d refused a bodyguard, and she was walking with her head held high. Nelson had definitely found a keeper.

“You should come for dinner this weekend,” Marci said once Matt had joined them.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner. The thing with food?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Big announcement?”

“Don’t be a dork. No, it’s just, Foggy and I, we’d like to have you over. Nothing more nefarious, counselor.”

Nelson came down from upstairs, maybe he’d been talking with his mom. “Dinner with friends? It’s a thing, Matt. They say so in the magazines my mom buys.”

“Oh, well then. They can’t be wrong.”

“Of course not! Also, our building’s pool’s reopened. We could actually have a pool party! Fancy, right? What do you say?”

“Um.” Matt suddenly didn’t look too happy.

“What, I know you can swim! Or at least, survive water.”

“Yeah, I can,” he said extremely unconvincingly. “But I don’t have any swim trunks.”

“Well, get some. You too, Frank. We’re going to book the pool, just the four of us, and then we’re going to eat and drink, and then you’ll be too smashed to drive anywhere but you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“What about Lucy?” Matt said like he’d found the best closing argument to save his ass. The pool thing sure seemed to have changed his mind about it.

“We can leave her at the shelter for the night. She won’t mind,” Frank said.

“Fine.”

Plans made, they went to get their lunch, and Frank started thinking. First order of business in the afternoon: buy them trunks. Red ones for Matt, of course. Unless… no, that was a terrible idea. Terrible. He loved it.

 

Friday arrived, and they left Lucy with Carlie at the shelter before driving down for the day to Manhattan. Frank spent a few hours in St Agnes, Matt did whatever he did as a lawyer, and they met again at his apartment to get ready. Frank took a shower to get rid of the sawdust that covered him and Matt joined him.

“I got some fancy chocolates,” he said. “The kind Foggy really likes and that he couldn’t afford when we were students. Did you get the trunks?”

“I did.” Frank poured some of Matt’s fancy shampoo in his palm and started working up a lather on Matt’s head. Some foam ran down Red’s nose and he tried to catch it and failed, as always.

“You can’t, Red.” Frank put an extra blob of it on Matt’s nose anyway.

“Sure can.” Nope, he couldn't.

“Whatever you say.”

Matt pouted a little but grabbed the soap, and soon enough they were squeaky clean and not even late (yet). Overnight bag in hand, they raced down the stairs (Frank won) and Frank was parking the van under the building right on time. Frank didn’t get out straight away, and Matt turned his head towards him.

“You gonna tell me why you don’t like the pool thing?”

“I never said I didn’t like it.”

“Pull the other one, yeah? Something’s bugging you.” Matt shrugged. “Harder to orient yourself, is that it?”

“I’m just not used to it.”

“All right.” There was more, but he wasn’t going to spill right now. Fine. “Let’s go, then.”

They only had time to leave their overnight bag in the guest bedroom before Nelson was ushering them back in the elevator and ignoring Matt’s grumbling. Soon they were rushing down to the gym level. Posh building they’d found here. There were private changing rooms and fresh bathrobes hanging next to the doors, and Marci winked at Frank and dragged her man into the same room as hers. Oh, all right. Frank could do that, too. Matt raised his eyebrows but let Frank pull him in the room, a cocky half-smile on his lips.

“I thought it was a pool, not a backroom,” he said.

“Take your clothes off, Red.”

“I clearly stand corrected.” His smile widened and Frank watched him undress. He wasn’t putting on a show, but then again he didn’t need to.

“Put these on, now.”

“Bossy.” And he loved it, Frank knew. The swim trunks were tight-fitting, very red, and had a black skull on the right hip; and the swim cap matched. “What colors are those?”

“What do you think?” Frank threw his own clothes on the little bench and put his own trunks on.

“And yours?”

“Not red.” But there was a tiny double red D over the black fabric over his right hip, so. He was looking forward to Nelson’s face. “Here, can you wrap my arm for me?”

“Sure.” Matt made quick work of putting waterproof bandages over his gunshot wound, and soon they were ready. Matt made to take his cane with him and Frank stopped him.

“You don’t need that.”

Matt frowned. “I don’t judge distances well when there’s water,” he ground out.

“I’m not going to let you fall in without warning, Red.”

“Well, you did push me in once.”

“Different circumstances.”

“People keep trying to drown me.”

“What? I was not. The boat was about to explode, Red.” And what was that thing about people trying to…?

“You didn’t warn me.”

“There wasn’t time. What, did you think I just wanted to get rid of you?” Matt shrugged. “Shit, Red. I’m not – I wouldn’t have. That suit of yours, I don’t imagine it’s great when waterlogged, right?”

“No, it’s not.”

Aw, damn. “Well, I’m not sorry I pushed you in, because if I hadn’t you’d have died. But I’m sorry about the rest, all right?”

Someone banged on the door.

“What are you doing in there? Marci’s already doing laps, guys!” Foggy called.

“We’re coming,” Matt said.

“Don’t use that word when you’re hiding in there with Frank, please. I don’t need the image.”

“You jealous, Nelson?” Frank opened the door and looked down his nose at him.

“Well, Matty here does have a great ass.”

“Foggy, please!”

“What? It’s true. You know what? I think it’s the first thing I told him when we met.”

Frank narrowed his eyes. “You looked at his ass first?”

“I feel like a cut of meat here,” Matt said.

“And I’m a great judge of prime cuts, Matt. Family business, you know.” Nelson winked. “I just winked. And no, I said something like he was handsome or something.”

“I thought you were coming on to me, I swear.”

“Yeah, all right, great story. Can we go now?” Frank didn’t want to hear one more word about how Nelson's first reaction when seeing Matt for the first time was lust.

“What, you don’t think I’m good-looking, Frank?” Matt followed him out, maybe fishing for a compliment. Frank ignored him.

“I think he doesn’t want to think of anyone looking at your butt, Matt. But objectively, it’s a – holy shit, Frank, did you buy the trunks yourself?”

Frank turned around. “Yeah.”

“But – ”

“Yeah, it’s _very red_.” Frank crossed his arms and glared. Not a word, Nelson.

“Oh, um, yes. Very red.” Nelson’s eyes fell on Frank’s own trunks, and they widened. “And Frank’s are, uh. Very black.”

“Personal branding,” Matt said. He slipped his hand in the crook of Frank’s arm and let himself be led to the water’s edge.

Marci was indeed doing laps, and she was a good swimmer. She joined them near the stairs and removed her goggles, and Frank could see she still had the bruises from 10 days ago, greenish-yellow now.

“You took your sweet time, guys.”

“I don’t want to know what they were doing in their room,” Nelson said. He looked pointedly at Matt’s trunks and did something with his eyebrows that must have meant, ‘don’t mention it,’ because she smiled widely and nodded without saying a word.

“I was wrapping Frank’s arm.”

“Is that waterproof?” Marci squinted at it.

“Probably not for long,” Frank said.

“So what’s the point?”

Frank huffed and dove into the pool. Medics had always nagged them about keeping wounds dry, all right? Soon enough he was racing Marci and damn, she was fast.

“My girlfriend is faster than your boyfriend, Matt,” he heard once they’d stopped to catch their breaths.

“I’m sure he can last longer.”

“Oh really? Wanna bet?”

Frank swam to the edge of the pool where Matt and Nelson were sitting. “I’m still recovering from a bullet to the arm,” Frank said. “Otherwise I’d have won.”

“Dream on, you’re a snail in the water!” Marci shouted from the other end of the pool.

“You’re a shark, Marci.” Nelson smiled dreamily. “That’s so hot.”

Matt poked him in the side. “Go on, go do your shark mating dance, then.”

“Fine, fine.” Foggy slid down into the water. “You know you can put more than just your feet in the pool, right?”

Frank watched him swim away. He had good form, too. Maybe the girlfriend had schooled him.

“So, you planning on sitting here all the time?” Frank asked.

“Nothing wrong with it,” Matt said.

“You can swim, right?”

“Yes. Probably not very well, though.”

“How did you learn?”

“Eh, Stick threw me into the Hudson and let me find out how to get back to shore. How else? And he said people didn’t fight in pools anyway.”

What the fuck, but Frank wasn’t even surprised. “Have you actually been to a swimming pool before?”

“Sure, school took us a few times. I didn’t get in myself, though. They made me wait on a bench.”

“What, blind kids don’t swim?”

“Huh, I guess they do? I don’t know how, maybe they put buoys a few feet before the edge? I never looked it up.”

“But you can’t… sense it?” Frank got out of the water and sat next to Matt.

“Sound’s a bit weird in here, it’s confusing. And if water gets in my ears it’s even worse.”

“I taught my kids, you know. Frank Jr and Lisa. He was good. Lisa didn’t like it, but at least I made sure she wouldn’t drown if she fell in the water. But my boy, he said he wanted to be an Olympic swimmer. Win medals and everything.”

“Yeah?” Matt smiled. “Imagine that. Medals over the fireplace. You’d have been so proud.”

“I already was.” And anything they’d have chosen to be, he’d have been proud of. Matt’s hand found his and their fingers intertwined.

On the other side of the pool, Nelson and Marci were splashing each other and trying to catch each other’s feet under the water, giggling like ten-year-olds. Her blue suit and cap were almost the same color as the tiles, but Nelson’s purple was easy to spot.

“Red,” Frank said.

“Hm?”

“I can teach you, if you’d like. Help you get your marks in water, or something. You can still hear stuff underwater, you know? Feel the currents, too. Temperatures. Just like you do out of it. So next time someone tries to drown you, you’ll be okay.”

“I was okay the other times.”

Sure. “Apart from me, what happened?”

“Uh, there was also the time my cab drove straight into the river.”

Frank stared. “What?”

“I got out, I was fine.” Sure, he was. That definitely explained some things, though. “I can cope.”

“Clearly.” Whatever, Frank would have a talk with Marci and Nelson, see if they could get access to the pool from time to time. He’d make sure Matt learned to deal with water, one way or another. He was living on a island, for fuck’s sake. Frank looked around for a distraction. “Hey, there are pool noodles over there, want one?”

“…noodles? What for?”

“Float around, mostly.”

“You just want me in the water, right?”

“We can hit Nelson with them, too.”

Matt grinned. “Okay, now I’m sold.”

Nelson shrieked like he’d been attacked by zombies and Marci got out of the water to take pictures. She emailed them to Frank later in the evening, and she asked where he’d found their swim trunks. _Prototypes_ , he answered, but he was pretty sure Zhang’s brother would start selling them soon. Zhang herself had insisted he wore a Daredevil one if Matt had to have a Punisher skull on his and that had almost made Frank change his mind, but it was worth it after all – and not only because of Nelson’s face. Yeah, he thought, watching Matt laughing out loud waving his pool noodle, not even knowing he had Frank's skull on his hip. Worth it.

 

Nelson had apparently raided his brother’s shop and the delis around it, because dinner was more or less a buffet of the best of what Hell’s Kitchen had to offer, even if he didn’t live there anymore. Matt showed off and guessed what everything was and what shop it was from with just a sniff, and Marci kept the alcohol flowing. Frank was feeling pretty mellow a couple hours in, and when they finally called it a night they shoved everything in the fridge and went to bed. From the looks between Nelson and Marci he could guess what they would be up to, and clearly Matt had ideas too.

Not bad ones, mind you. They hadn’t rolled the blinds down and the neon lights from outside were more than enough to get by, and Frank was entirely on board with some heavy making-out against the wall of their room. Especially once he’d gotten Matt’s shirt off and thrown it over a chair, and especially when Matt was making those little needy sighs whenever Frank’s lips left his skin. That was pretty good.

“They’ll hear you, Red,” Frank said into his neck.

“I don’t care.”

“Really?” Frank pushed his thigh between Matt’s and smiled when Matt tried to muffle a groan in his shoulder. Oh, he cared all right.

“You asshole,” he panted.

“Oh, definitely.”

But Frank didn’t feel smug for long, because soon after Matt was kneeling and he’d taken Frank's sweatpants down with him, and whatever noises he was making were muffled by Frank's dick and Frank himself, well. Frank was real grateful he had a wall to rest his forearms on, you know?

When he was done, Red was giving him the most shit-eating grin he’d ever seen – and on Red’s face, that was saying something. There was a little drop of come on the corner of his mouth, and Frank wiped it with his thumb. The grin widened.

“You proud of yourself?” Frank asked.

“Yeah.”

“Going to make you scream.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Frank hauled him up and kissed that grin off of his face before marching him to the bed. He pulled his own pants up and Matt’s down, and yes – he _was_ going to make him scream. And in the morning he’d have to sit at the same table as his buddy and Marci and pretend he hadn’t but everyone would know, and Frank would watch him squirm. Oh, yeah.

Frank had a plan. First, let Matt struggle. He always did, and Frank wondered if he was aware of it. He needed to prove himself maybe, to prove he wasn’t submitting to anything. But then, he also needed to be pinned down right there, caught and brought back and shown that however much he fought to get away, he was taken back in. Wanted. Frank dragged him down when Matt tried to knee him in the stomach and wriggle away, he held him down and let him tire himself out against him and covered his mouth with a hand.

“Shhh,” Frank said. “They’ll hear you.” And then he let his stubble rasp against Matt’s neck and chest and smiled at the noises. That got him nails biting into his shoulders, hips trying to throw him off, but he’d been expecting it. Frank didn’t budge.

And because he knew Matt needed something to fight against, Frank took the hands still digging into his shoulders and put them flat against the wall at the head of the bed. “Keep them here,” he said. “And be quiet, yeah?”

Matt huffed, but then he bit his lip and did his best to push the wall away as Frank made his way down his body; he made the breathiest little noises that cut off abruptly then ended in a long sigh, he arched and he twisted but Frank set the pace he wanted and didn’t relent until Matt covered his face with his arms and failed, absolutely failed at keeping quiet. Forget Nelson, the entire _building_ had to know by now.

“Frank, please,” Matt mumbled. His hand was trying to grasp Frank, but he was too uncoordinated and shaky to find anything. “Please?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, and as soon as he was back up the bed Matt was wrapped around him, his face buried under Frank’s chin. “Hey, you all right?” A tiny, unconvincing nod. Matt was all shuddery against him, and Frank’s neck was maybe a bit damp. “Okay. Okay, all right.” Shit, he _was_ crying. Trying to hide it, but he was. Frank twisted enough to catch a corner of the blankets and cover them, and felt absolutely out of his depth. He didn’t think anything was wrong per se, but should he just wait it out? or do something else? Was Matt just overwhelmed, like a kid sobbing out of exhaustion and overstimulation? “Is it just too much?” Frank whispered.

“M’sorry.”

“What for?” Frank tightened his grip on Matt’s head. “And don’t you dare quote the old man’s ideas of what a man should and shouldn’t do.” Matt didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. “You just can’t take me, that’s all, yeah? I’m just too much for you.” He caught an elbow that tried to get him.

“I hate you,” Matt said. He was smiling, Frank could hear it in his voice.

“Yeah, Red. Yeah, I hate you too.”

They fell asleep like that, a tangle of arms and legs under messy covers and the lights from the city painting the walls of room.

 

Something woke Frank up. He was alone in the bed, but the mattress was still warm right where Matt had been. He heard a… cupboard door? slam closed and something that sounded like Matt swearing under his breath. Then footsteps, a sliver of light under the door and Marci’s soft sound of surprise. Frank turned his head to look outside through the window. Early morning. He doubted he’d go back to sleep, so he stretched and kept an ear on the kitchen.

“You’re noisy for a ninja,” Marci said in a low voice.

“Oh, I woke you. I’m sorry.” Frank could hear her well enough, but Matt’s morning rumble was harder to make out.

“I was already up,” she whispered. “Looking for something?”

“No.”

More footsteps, the clink of ceramic, and someone turned up an electric kettle. “We keep tea near the mugs, above the sink.”

“Oh.”

“Foggy still puts it back with the pasta, sometimes.”

“Dry foodstuffs.”

“Yeah, spare me the lecture. I got it before.” A hushed whistle then, “Wow. Is that – it _is_! Girl, you have to put some cream on that. Sit here,” and a chair creaked slightly. “Let me look.”

“Marci!”

“Don’t you hiss at me, I sure understand why all the boys and girls wanted to do you but damn, that’s some serious beard burn you got here. And here. And – okay, Frank is a thorough guy, I’ll give you that.” The kettle clicked.

“Marci, stop prodding!”

“I’m admiring Frank’s handiwork, he really did a number on you. Guess he can’t resist the – seriously, how many abs do you have?” Okay, was she pawing at Red? _Hands off_ , Frank thought.

“A normal number, I think?”

“Hm. Scars a normal number too?” Silence, then Frank heard the water being poured. “English Breakfast okay?”

“Sure.”

“Honey? No? Okay.” Cupboard doors opening and closing, the clink of a spoon on ceramic. “So, how did you get to be you?”

“Me?” A pause, then a _hey!_ Maybe she poked him? Frank frowned. “Crunches, push-ups. That sort of thing.”

“Hardcore crossfit gets you ripped, but not _literally_ ripped, Matt.” A mug dragged on the table. “Foggy told me about the day he found you bleeding out in your apartment. Still has nightmares about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not – ” She sighed. “I remember in law school how… I don’t know, I kept thinking, there’s _something_ about him. You tried so hard to look harmless and then suddenly you demolished everyone in debates. I never saw you hit anyone, not then. But you’ve always been so angry, Matt. Sweet blind orphan one minute, and then…”

“Did I scare you?”

Marci didn’t answer right away. “No, not really. But I always saw it, this – this rage. The violence in you. You’re always this close to snapping, Matt. This close to losing it. I guess hooking up with the Punisher himself makes sense, for you.” Frank was sitting in bed, now. Matt had to know he wasn’t asleep anymore, unless he wasn’t paying attention. Or maybe he didn’t care that Frank heard. Maybe he wanted Frank to hear. “He can be scary.”

“I’m not afraid of him. And he wouldn't hurt you, Marci.”

“I know. That’s not what I’m saying. But Matt, the lives you lead… you _should_ be afraid. For him, and for yourself. How long do you think it can last, Daredevil and the Punisher?”

A huff, then the soft thump ceramic gently set on the table. “He’s not only that.”

“No. But you do have a lot in common.”

“What, the violence?”

“And the trauma.”

“I’m not…”

“Can it, Matt. I’m a lawyer just like you. We see abuse and we see lies, we can recognize them.”

Frank couldn't make out Matt’s muffled answer. He imagined he was hiding behind his tea.

“Fine. And is it worth it? What you’re doing, does it justify what was done to you? Or is it the other way around? You can’t change the past.”

“I’m doing good now. I’m changing things _now_.”

“Maybe. But think about that, too: you’re a very Catholic defense attorney. He’s a ruthless killer.” Well, true. “You’re both vigilantes, but with opposite philosophies. How does that compute?”

Frank’s door opened a little, and Nelson came just inside. “Hey,” he whispered.

“You sent your girlfriend to grill him?” Frank asked.

“She said someone should.”

“Matt’s stubborn.”

“That he is.”

Frank stood up. “He knows we’re listening.”

“Probably. Marci said you should hear what she has to say, too.”

“Whatever.” It had gone on long enough. Frank took Matt’s shirt from the chair where he’d thrown it earlier and marched to the kitchen.

“Here,” he said. “Your shirt.” He dropped it in Matt’s lap.

“Hey, I was enjoying the view!”

“Frank doesn't like you ogling his boyfriend,” Nelson said. “Don’t be jealous, Frank, _you_ have the manly, rugged sexy thing down pat.”

“Foggy!” Matt slipped the shirt on and curled a little more around his tea. Frank tried not to smile too smugly.

“What? It’s true. But maybe get him to buy the nice beard stuff so you don’t look like tenderized meat all over? And I do mean all over. I really didn’t need to know about that.”

Shut up, Nelson. “Don’t have a beard.”

“Right now, you have a face full of sharp bristles. I’ll text you what to buy. Trust me, I’ve had facial hair on and off for years and no one ever complained.” Well, right now, Frank wanted to complain, but he figured strangling Nelson would make Red sad.

Matt tried to hide his yawn in his tea but fooled no one.

“You two done?” Their little staged intervention was fun and all, but Frank wanted it over now.

“Yeah, wait a sec,” Marci said, and she hurried out of the kitchen.

“Can’t believe you staged an ambush, Foggy.”

“We didn’t. Revenge for keeping us up with your sex life.”

“You just wish you had it as good,” Frank said.

“We do, we’re just more discreet.” Marci was back, a tube of something in hand. “There,” she said as she handed it to Frank. “Wherever skin’s red and irritated.” Well, Matt was red all over right now, but that probably wasn’t what she meant. Frank suspected Matt didn’t dislike the reminder it gave him, but he might also complain about the discomfort later on.

“Fine.” He’d use the cream. “Can we go back to sleep now?” Or, you know. Something else.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” Busted.

“ _Frank_ ,” Matt said. Damn, Frank’d been looking forward to a little snide fest with Nelson, too. Red leaned his head back into Frank’s stomach behind him and blinked up at the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“Bout eight.”

“Hm.” Matt’s eyes closed. “Waffles,” he said. “Fogs, do you still have that old waffle maker?”

“You bet I do, buddy. Want some?” Matt did his best sad blind orphan face, and Nelson rolled his eyes and crouched to forage into yet another cupboard.

“We’ll be back. Call us when they’re done,” Frank said. He hauled Matt up and ignored Nelson’s muffled, _seriously?_ as they went back to the bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed, Matt’s hands were on him. “We should help them.”

“Take off your shirt.”

Matt bit his lip, took a step away, and said, “No.”

“No?”

“You have to catch me first.”

“I _have to_?”

“Uh huh.”

“You little shit,” Frank said. He went for a tackle but Matt dodged and Frank ended up face down on the bed like an idiot.

“Oops.”

“I’ll get you, Red.”

“You can try.”

He wasn’t going to _try_ , he was going to _get him_. Just as Frank sat up on the bed Matt jumped on him and flattened him again, but Frank had been expecting something like that. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off of Red. And red he really was, too. Frank looked at him, and watched him squirm. He didn’t know why Frank wasn’t making a move, and that was making him antsy. Here it was, the curious head tilt, the little puzzled frown. He was about to say something too, Frank could see it on his lips.

That’s when Frank flipped them over and sat on Matt’s hips. “See? Got you.”

“You need to have a win sometimes.”

“Sometimes, eh?” He’d never know how often he actually won and how often Matt let himself be manhandled. What Frank did know, however, was how much Red wanted it. How big he smiled when Frank caught him and held him and didn’t let him go. Frank had done that once, and he was man enough to admit that hadn’t been his best idea. “Stop moving, Red.”

“You’re sitting on me. I’m not going anywhere.” _You don’t_ want _to go anywhere, more like,_ Frank thought. Matt never did anything he didn’t want to do, however stupid.

“You better not,” Frank said, and he squeezed some of Marci’s cream directly on Matt’s skin, right under the little golden crucifix around his neck.

He jumped and almost threw him off. “Cold!”

Too bad. Frank spread and massaged the cream where Matt’s skin was red and angry-looking, and Matt pouted until it had warmed up under Frank’s hands. After that, he turned all loose and happy like a cat basking in the sun.

Frank put the cap back on the tube when he was done and left Matt in the bedroom, meditating (or so he claimed, it looked like dozing to Frank). He spotted Nelson and Marci cuddling on their couch on his way to put it back in the bathroom, and left the tube of cream on the counter behind the sink. He looked at his face in the mirror, ran a hand over his chin. It made a raspy sound, but it didn’t really hurt. Then again his skin wasn't as sensitive as Matt’s; once it had grown out it should be fine, right? And he wouldn't be as recognizable. He could hide Frank Castle behind Pete Castiglione again, without getting the occasional double-take when people looked at him too closely.

But Pete would always be the lie, a thin lie over who he really was. _He’s not only that,_ Matt had said. Not only the Punisher. Not only the ruthless killer, the violent vigilante. Marci’s words, but Matt hadn’t disagreed. She was right, though: Matt should be afraid, and it terrified Frank that he wasn’t. If being Daredevil didn't kill him, then his own contradictions would, and Frank would be there to watch it all.

He wished he could find the faith of his childhood again, sometimes; that he could pray and believe that God was watching out, that He was listening. That He was all love and benevolence. But Frank knew better now. God didn’t care, and you’d better hope He didn’t take an interest in you. Matt still wanted to hope in spite of all the shit thrown his way, and that – that was beyond Frank. He was such a fucking martyr, and in all the stories it never ended well for them. Never.

Frank closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see his own dead stare and the fury lurking just behind, banked for now but ready to flare up. He knew it was there already, he knew how much of himself was dead. But somehow, a few people kept what was left of him alive. He should pay it back. Leave no debt.

Noises came from the kitchen; Nelson must have started on the waffles. Time for breakfast, then. Frank left the bathroom and shook his head free of useless thoughts. Better focus on the here and now, yeah. Couldn’t do anything about the rest.

 

Lucy was overjoyed when they got back to the shelter late that morning, and absolutely over the moon when they took her to the park in the afternoon. She ran everywhere with a stick or another in her mouth, chased every squirrel, sniffed every blade of grass. Matt was all soft and loose-limbed on his arm, but he was also pretty quiet. Nothing about how Landman and Zack would never recover, nothing about his neighbor or Karen’s latest office prank.

“Hey,” Frank said.

“Hm?”

“You all right?”

Matt didn’t answer right away. “Yeah, I’m just.” Someone ran past them, and he waited until they were far enough away. “What Marci sad this morning. You heard it, right?”

“I did.”

“I didn’t – I don’t want to believe her.”

“She’s right, though.”

“I trust you. I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“I’m not a good person either, Red. She doesn’t want you to pay the price for what I do.”

Matt didn’t answer. His free hand went up to touch the cross around his neck, and he looked troubled. Altar boy was struggling with too many conflicting things, and it was eating at him. And Frank didn’t have any answer for him. No one had.

“Come on, Red. We got to go to the pharmacy.”

“You sick?”

“Nah. Nelson sent me the names of the fancy stuff I should get so you stay pretty.”

“So you think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up, Red.”

And it made him smile again, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Potential triggers: kidnapping, swimming pool (nothing bad happens).


End file.
